From Narrowed Eyes
by WolfAmongstSheep
Summary: An alternate path for a Mr. Dorian Gray. R
1. Chapter 1

A cane was tapped against the floor by a finely dressed gentlemen, seemingly bored inside of the strangers home. The room he resided in along with the stranger was vast, and blatantly used for meetings and congregations with people. A long table in the center of the room suggested that this man was accustomed to many visitors at once.

The books and files suffocating the shelves alining the wall suggested he spent a great amount of time studying, or perhaps he pursued acts of spying for information that is meant to stay hidden. Such is the way one comes in contact with the proper blackmail for an immortal.

There was an unspoken understanding between Dorian Gray and James Moriarty (or as Dorian knew him as, M) as they stared each other down. They would not speak of blackmail, threats, or portraits, or any other idle subjects that would get them no closer to there separate goals. Such things were for lesser, more barbaric men, and they preferred to consider themselves gentlemen.

"Ahh, Mr. Gray," M announced grandly, spreading his arms in welcome. "Please, sit down. Sherry?."

Dorian lifted on elegant eyebrow and lowered himself in an armchair by the fire. If M was to play nice for now, so would he.

"Thank you," Dorian said lackadaisically, as boredom was the frequently expression that dominated his appearance. "I understand you would like to make a proposal?"

M handed Dorian the crystal glass and sat himself in a similar armchair in the other side of the fireplace. He sipped his own sherry before responding. "Right to business then? You'll forgive me for having to resort to such primitive methods to secure your interest, but I knew a man of your... _experience_ would not respond positively to my advances when you have nothing to gain."

Dorian narrowed his eyes, "Pardon me if I don't."

M lifted an eyebrow, amused, "Testy, aren't we?"

Dorian remained silent, not dignifying that question with an answer.

"Well, I suppose I would be as well." M sighed.

"I was under the impression you had some favor you'd like to ask of me... Or am I giving your mind simply too much credit?" Dorian drawled, leaning back in his chair with one hand holding his cane steady against the floor.

M chuckled at Mr. Gray's reluctance, but continued on in his explanation. "No need to get offensive, Mr. Gray. As I now have your attention due to your item of value that in by possession, I think I am right to believe that you will help me in my quest."

Dorian rolled his eyes, "And your quest is to do what exactly?"

"To begin my empire. M_y_ rule."

Dorian kept his mask of impassiveness over his face and his gaze wandered over to the crackling flames not so far from him. Inside, though, he was amused. Why were mortals always striving for world domination, when it obviously never worked out in the end? _They simply never learn._.. However, Dorian was not pleased with the threat this 'M' held over him, and a would most likely end up having to play along with this fool's plans until he could find a path to regaining his portrait.

"And how do you expect me to assist you with this?"

"Mr. Gray, there are many ways I can think of, but there is only one that will be of the most help."

"Obviously."

The fire crackled and M stabbed at it with an iron poker. He continued as though Dorian had never spoke, "I would like you to take part in the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen."

For the first time in an excessive amount of years, Dorian Gray was confused, "Excuse me?"

"The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen." M explained, "It's a government assembled team that assists the Empire with major, potentially world-breaking catastrophes."

"And am I correct to assume that you are not expecting me to do any world rescuing? It seems that your methods are a bit extreme for just requesting I assist the government."

"Right you are, Mr. Gray. My plans are a bit more advanced than that."

Dorian rolled his eyes, already bored with the direction this conversation was going in. It was clear that M preferred to keep him in the dark as to the particulars. He only wanted Dorian for something specific.

"And would you care to enlighten me as to what exactly you'd like me to do?"

M smiled grimly, relishing his power. "Certainly, Mr. Gray. You see, the League is not made of of your average gentlemen. Each one of them has a...let's call it special part that I would like to have in my possession," M glanced away from the fire to see how Dorian was taking this and of course, that shroud of boredom still hung over his head. "But amongst extraordinary people, only an extraordinary spy will be able to do my bidding right."

Dorian raised an eyebrow in amusement at M's choice of words. As he played with the grand ring on his finger, he realized it seemed as though M was attempting to make him feel insignificant, or similar to a slave. Of course, this was pointless, as Dorian's ego was to large to allow this. He had lives far longer than the man sitting next to him had, and had no doubt in his mind that he was wiser and more talented, in every aspect of his life.

M opened a drawer on the table beside him and dug out an envelope with his seal from within. He tossed it to Dorian who's deft fingers clutched it from the air. "Inside that are instructions on what you are to do when everything comes together. You are playing a reluctant League member who wants no part in this," smiling coyly he added, "That is not so far from the truth so I trust you can portray it well?" M was confident his plans were ingenious, and having Mr. Dorian Gray at his command made him all the more content. Every second he was closer to his goal.

Dorian remained silent.

"As this is of the utmost importance and all the men in our little group have dealt with their own betrayals, you must not get caught or give off the slightest untrustworthy vibe."

"I've never heard of you before, Mr. M."

Smiling once again, mirth twinkled slightly maniacally in M's eyes. "Oh, I'm sure you have, Mr. Gray, just in not so little words."

"You don't say," Dorian could sense M's unwillingness to relinquish any more information.

"Ah, yes, well, I suppose since you are now in my employment I shall have to this you a bone." M paused, searching Dorian's face curiously for any signs of irritation towards the demeaning phrases he continued to use. Again, Mr. Gray's face betrayed nothing. "I assume you've heard of the recent attacks across Europe that have the potential to spark a world war?"

"And I suppose I've heard wilder things before than you being the cause of them."

Smiling appreciatively, M nodded, "Yes, the Fantom has been reeking many a havoc. But as I said before, my plans will come together."

"I don't believe I ever heard you say anything of the sort," Dorian rolled his eyes once more and proceeded to lift himself from his chair, sensing his dismissal. "You have nothing to fear, Mr. M. As I care little for this whole ordeal, I would prefer this to be over quickly, which will therefore give your best outcome." Pausing on his way to the door and smirking, he added, "After all, I am a professional." On that note, Dorian made his way out of the room, and concentrated once more on retrieving his portrait and the new information he had collected.

**Okay, so I just started, but I'm gonna keep going with this one. The plot isn't gonna change from cannon for a little while so it's gonna be basically Dorian's point of view of the movie for a couple more chapters. Please tell me what you think !**


	2. Chapter 2

The fireplace in Dorian Gray's library crackled and warmed the room as its master sat in a plush chair not far from it. A letter that had previously occupied his hands was tossed into the fire and cold eyes stared it down. Traveling abroad with a group of bumbling 'extraordinary' gentlemen was not how he had pictured these coming months. He cared little for their so called talent. But, however unfortunate it was, his portrait was in the hands of a lunatic at the moment, so Dorian decided he'd play nice...for now.

The letter failed to give a specific time, but Dorian was expecting his guests soon. Boredom swept across his lovely features once again, as new experiences never came his way anymore, due to his immortality. _Perhaps this League business could be entertaining_. Dorian had already decided it was intriguing. After all, how often did groups of completely different individuals come together in the name of 'peace'?

Dorian sighed. It had been a while since anything had piqued his interest. At least 10 years had passed since he had met- but he didn't wish to think of such things. He also didn't want to think about how it was his fault that that particular part of his life had ended.

But every time his mind wandered away from him, it went to _her_ or his painting. Scowling, Dorian rose from his seat in restlessness. He detested the fact that the man, M, had him in the palm of his hand. He had Dorian's very _soul_ in his possession. All the proof of his wickedness and the ability to sever his life at any given moment. It annoyed Dorian at just how vulnerable he was and that he had no choice but to infiltrate this League. _Ah well_, Dorian thought to himself, _it's not as though_ _I have any living enemies to worry about at the moment_. _Life was getting too simple_.

According to M's letter, his guests should be arriving fairly soon. He was to not be interested in what they had to say, and it intrigued Dorian as to how they were going to bait him into joining them. He doubted that they had anything that could actually interest him. Good thing his acting level had acceded in hi years of life.

A sudden rap at the door was heard and Dorian knew it must be the League; the exterior of his home was most unbecoming, so he doubted there were any unexpected guests to deal with. Dorian rose from his seat and headed towards the door. In the hallway, he saw a servant hurrying in the same direction. "Leave it, James," he drawled. "I will receive them. Kindly leave me and my guests to it."

James nodded and turned away, of course following his employer's direction, "Of course, Master Gray." Dorian alway preferred James's indifferent and slightly callous personality to his lady servant's stuttering and frightful one. There was nothing worse than a fumbling servant, except perhaps an offended one.

Dorian scowled internally as he passed the empty spot on his wall where his portrait used to hang and continued on to the door, reminding himself now was not the time to express his annoyance. He kept the pretense that he hadn't the slightest idea who was on the other side of the door and slid open the grate to peek at who was on the other side. As he expected, it was, in fact, the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.

Opening the door, he peered down indifferently at the men standing before him. The old one who had knocked on his door spoke gruffly to him.

"Mr. Dorian Gray?"

Leaning against his doorway in a slight pose, Dorian responded, "I am indeed."

Now Dorian recognized him. Alan Quartermain, an English hero that has been residing in Kenya for the past few years. Apparently, he served the government and a tragedy involving his son had caused him to make a vow to never return to England. _I'm curious as to how M __recruited__** you**_**. **Dorian vaguely recalled seeing a younger version of the man in front of him on one of his trips to some college. At least he was not totally surrounded by savages. Thinking back to the letter M sent him, Quartermain was here only because he was the only man M was positive could capture Mr. Hyde, a monstrous resident of Paris.

Behind Quartermain was a man in a hat and trench coat, white grease paint covering his face. This was obviously the invisible man, Rodney Skinner. M picked him off the streets after and unsuccessful pickpocket attempt. The man seemed perfectly at ease, if not a bit amused with their party. The files Dorian had been given instructed him to obtain a skin sample from him, which keeping track of would be an adventure all on it's own.

Farthest away from Dorian was the Indian, Captain Nemo. He was apparently supplying futuristic transportation, which Dorian assumed was not unlike what he had just seen driven away. He made a mental to note to pack his camera in order to capture the secrets of whatever extraordinary vessel they were to be using.

Since the files instructed that Dorian retrieve a vile of Mr. Hyde's potion and a sample of vampire blood, he could only assume they had yet to...obtain these two members for their crew.

As Dorian processed all this, Quartermain continued, "We come by way of M."

Smirking slightly, as if conversing with an obtuse child, Dorian responded. "Ahh," he said. "M for _mystery_. Well, as I told him and am telling you, I am not interested." But as Dorian moved to shut the door he heard a musical voice berate him slightly.

"Dorian."

His eyes widened slightly in surprise as the same Wilhelmina Harker he had a wonderful affair with all those years ago sauntered forward seductively. She raised an eyebrow at him and paused on her way through the throng of men, as if he were idiotic to even suggest he shut the door in their faces. Dorian stepped aside, as he knew Mina would only push past him if he failed to, and the rest of the League followed her lead.

It was strange seeing her again, considering the relationship he had had with her was one of the only bits of joy he had felt in his long life, no matter how brief or disastrous it was. But his wonder was overruled by his surprise, seeing as the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen was the last place he would ever expect to come by dear Mina. She was a beauty, of course, and an intellectual one at that, but extraordinary she was not. At least, not in the way M wanted.

With all the raging emotions in his body that he had luckily been able to keep absent from his facial expression, the one that had always been strongest in her company was still present. Lust. All his mind could muse about was the feel of Mina's soft skin and touch against his. Her intelligent conversations and sometimes sarcastic comments that sent many a men running. Her gentle lips that turned fierce at exactly the right moment... Dorian could not even pay attention to the snarky comment Skinner made or the one he himself answered Quartermain with about his overabundance of space on the portrait wall. But, deciding to focus his mind on business, Dorian pushed his thoughts of intimacy to the back of his mind for the moment and brought it back to the task at hand.

Dorian led them to his library, which he had been entertaining himself in before that fateful rap on his door. The fire had almost died, causing Dorian to stab at it with his poker as the rest of the League filed into the room.

As Skinner came into the room he immediately headed for Dorian's alcohol cabinet. "Ooh. Scotch anyone?" The question was obviously rhetorical as Skinner seemingly ceased to pay attention to his company, too busy indulging himself.

"Please help yourself," Dorian replied dryly, making his way to his favorite armchair. Leaning back with his cane still in one hand, Dorian portrayed the perfect listener, if a bit smug or cocky.

The Indian transporter, Nemo, decided to speak now. "I'm impressed, Mr. Gray. You take Skinner's uniqueness in stride."

Dorian smirked as he answered, finding it amusing that Nemo thought a simple lab mishap such as _invisibility_ would stun him. "Yes, well, I've seen too much in my life to shock easily." His eyes wandered over to Mina once again, wondering what her first response was to Skinner's irregularity. Most likely the desire for a blood sample, her being the dedicated chemist that she is.

Mina passed Skinner with slight distaste clouding her expression. She perched herself primly on the arm of the chair beside Dorian and rolled her eyes at his to response to Nemo's observation. She most likely thought him egotistical, which was correct, but more so due to her unawareness of his immortality.

Now he spoke directly to her, "Although,I am surprised to see _you _again."

Raising an elegant eyebrow on her innocent face at him, she mockingly answered, "When our last parting was such sweet sorrow?" It appeared someone was still a tad bitter...

Jumping to conclusions, Dorian felt satisfied that her presence was of no great importance. M was more clever than he thought if he could find the one thing that would've persuaded Dorian, if he was not already onboard, however unwilling. "Ah, so you're nothing more than an enticement." But even as the words left his mouth, Dorian felt it odd M would track down an old flame in order to attract Dorian, which was even more queer considering he had Dorian in the palm of his hand. "Nevertheless, your presence intrigues me."

Abruptly turning away from the sultry female next to him in order to clear his thoughts, Dorian looked instead to the eldest looking man. "They say you're indestructible, Quartermain." Dorian doubted it; _he _truly knew what the word indestructible meant.

Walking forward, Quartermain answered the unasked question. "Well, a witch doctor did bless me once," he stated proudly, though not boasting. "I saved his village. He said, 'Africa would never let me die,'"

Nodding in acknowledgement, Gray attempted to douse Quartermain's poorly hidden confidence, "But you're not in Africa now."

"No," Quartermain replied curtly with narrowed eyes. He seemed to realize that Dorian was more than an elegant gentleman of society.

"I confess a curiosity as to what the files say about Mr. Gray." Unconsciously siding with Quartermain, Nemo attempted to trap Dorian with his words. "We, all of us here, have traits useful in this endeavor. A hunter; a scientist; even Skinner has his stealth."

"Cheers." Skinner acknowledged with a raised glass before downing the palpably visible, amber liquid down his throat.

Continuing as though he had never been interrupted, Nemo ended his next observation. "What have you?"

The smirk on Dorian's face made his arrogant amusement clear. The League would discover his own uniqueness soon enough, and he would not insult their intelligence by giving them clues. "I have experience," Dorian replied wryly, using the same word to describe his difference that M had used at their meeting.

Quartermain decided to interject there as he recalled something. "Gray and I have met before: many years ago at Eton College." _Ahh, so you've remembered also_. Gray was just surprised he himself had managed to pick out one boy's face from hundreds and remember it to this day.

"A lecture, no doubt," Mina supplied, bored. "You, the nations hero and Dorian, the eager listening boy."

This was obviously the response Quartermain had wanted as he corrected dramatically, "Quite the opposite in fact. It was Gray visiting Eton...and I the boy."

Mina's uncaring expression faltered as her eyes widened in surprise as she looked Dorian over again. It seemed she had skipped right over confusion as to what Quartermain meant and immediately drew a conclusion. Dorian almost thought there was a spark of relief in her eyes, but as he could find no reason for that particular emotion, he decided he had imagined it.

Suddenly, Quartermain's head perked to the side as though he were a wolfhound and he spun around. He seemed to be listening for danger.

Mina looked at him, and ,curiously, she was confused and slightly surprised again as she to stood up. "What is it?"

But Mina's question was answered as several gunman appeared at the balconies of Dorian's library. Quartermain looked at Dorian first. "Gray?"

"They're not mine." He replied lazily. Already, he had figured out this was M's unhealthy taste of theatrics out to reek havoc on his innocent library. But no one was in any serious danger; after all, they were in the League for a reason.

"They're mine."

Everyone turned their attention to the direction of the heavily accented voice and laid eyes on an armored, masked man. Dorian rolled his eyes subtly.

Quartermain stood ahead of the group, obviously assuming the leadership position. "First meetings warrant introductions," he called up to 'Fantom'.

The armored man sauntered a few steps forward, his gnarled face twisting into a snarl as he glared at them. "Of course. I am Fantom. And you," he sneered, "are the League of so-called Extraordinary Gentlemen. There. Introductions made." Quartermain began to move his pistol forward, in what he perceived as a subtle manner. "Oh, and I'm scarred, Mr. Quartermain, not blind. Drop the gun." With only a slight hesitation, Quartermain's fingers unclasped his weapon and it fell to the floor with a clang. The Fantom continued, "Your mission is to stop me. This, of course, I can't permit. So I give you all a special one-time invitation. Join me."

M's attempt to coerce members that could not be blackmailed into joining him proved to be in vain. Dorian glanced at the League, examining their reactions. Nemo's eyes were narrowed, but he seemed indifferent; it was still obvious he'd never agree. The man detests England, but he wouldn't stoop that low with his Hindu morality.

"You think we'll start a war that will consume the world? While you profit from your arms race?"

Quartermain was quite obviously enraged at even the insinuation that he would help the Fanton's cause. His knuckles were white and fists were clenched against his sides.

"I cannot deny that fortunes are made in war. Imagine the riches a world war will yield."

Skinner's facial expression was calculating, as though he would consider the offer, but his body language contradicted what he was trying to send out. "He's not wrong," Skinner commented lightly, but again his body betrayed his actual thoughts. His right hand was wandering over to his coat's fastenings, as if he were ready to rip it off in case of the need.

"Speak for yourself," Dorian responded, shooting Skinner down in hopes of gaining the League's favor.

Mina's face was impassive and her body language gave away nothing. She was the picture of propriety. But Dorian knew her, and he was aware that even though she pretended to care little of the fate for the rest of the world, she wouldn't help to destroy it. Besides, what use would she be to the Fantom?

It was quiet for a moment after Dorian spoke, as if no one knew what exactly to do. But as quickly as it had come, the quiet was gone as the sound of a shot rang out from the balcony. Chaos ensued and the League quickly spring into action.

Papers from unfortunate books were falling from the ceiling and bullets were flying everywhere. Quartermain had immediately taken to fighting with his rifle, whereas Nemo whipped out his cutlass after shepherding Mina into hiding. Skinner was gone from view, and with one last annoyed sigh, Dorian drew his own sword from within his cane. He swiped away enemies effortlessly and without batting an eye. _Not even one tear on my suit_, he thought to himself admiringly. The League was easily defeating the fools that attempted to attack them.

When Dorian spun around, he was face to face with a smug looking machine gun carrier. Dorian only raised an eyebrow at the idiotic man as he waited for the barrel of bullets to finish as the entire set was being released into his chest. By the time the torrent did finish, Dorian's patience was was worn. He quickly dispatched the shocked man, mercilessly stabbing his in the chest.

"What are you?" the man gasped as he slid to the ground, taking half of Dorian's lavish suit with him.

Looking down at the man in disgust, Dorian responded, "I'm complicated."

And with that, Dorian made his way upstairs to change.

***

Bodies littered the floor after the battle had ended. Skinner dressed himself and looked at Dorian in awe. "I thought I was special. You're invulnerable to harm!"

If this had been one of the first few times Dorian had gotten a chance to brag about his situation, he may have taken the bait. However, that was not the case. "I don't like to boast," he drawled. Dorian looked around, wishing to see how Mina had fared. He wasn't sexist, he just couldn't imagine a proper English woman such as Mina -of all people- fighting. But when he glanced around quickly, she was not in his line of view. "What happened to Mina?" he inquired of the group.

Quartermain stepped forward, answering Dorian in his rough voice. "Oh she's probably hip deep in some sort of trouble." It appeared he was against the thought of a woman tagging along. No matter. Dorian was not.

Strutting our from behind a bookcase, Mina Harker appeared. As she swung her scarlet scarf back around her neck, she spoke, "Don't be such an alarmist, Mr. Q. And my hips," she picked her bowler hat up off the carpet, "are none of your business."

But as Mina stood straight, a man that had been assumed to be dead jumped up from the floor, pulling Mina to him and holding a dagger to her neck. At once, all the men had weapons pointed at him, and as Dorian slid his sword slightly out of his cane, he noticed a newcomer had also taken there side with a rifle pointed to the offender's head. But their efforts proved fruitless as the man shouted, "Shoot! Go on!" The League recognized who had the upper hand, and they all lowered their weapons, the newcomer's going down last and only when Mina raised an eyebrow of expectation at him.

The imbecile holding Mina chuckled, his face intimately close to hers. "I guessed as much. That they'd do anything to protect you."

Mina, oddly calm throughout the whole ordeal, responded in kind. "Now, that was your biggest mistake," she murmured to him softly. Dorian and the rest of the League watched intently, having no clue of what was going to happen. "Thinking I need _them _to protect _me_."

And with that said, Mrs. Wilhelmina Harker lifted her attacker's arm from her throat, spun around, and latched _fangs_ onto his throat. She dropped him for a moment and her expression was the picture of ecstasy. Her eyes were blood red and her hair fell out of a bun in curls as she followed the writhing and shrieking man to the floor, draining his body of blood and tearing his neck from his body. Dorian assumed the theatrics were for the benefit of her audience.

"Extraordinary," Nemo breathed out as Mina swung herself up gracefully, immediately pinning her hair back up and whipping out a compact mirror.

"Well, I thought you were gonna spring out some gun from your garters after you spoke to that bloke like that!" Skinner exclaimed, making a joke out of his amazement.

Mina turned to the rest of the group and rolled her eyes. "I have better uses for those weapons, Mr. Skinner," she replied sarcastically.

Dorian had watched the whole scene unfold intently, and everything had clicked into place. Why the vampire was missing; why a woman was coming along, and why Mina Harker had always seemed so mature and elegant. Sultry and seductive. Intellectual and intelligent. Her calculated facial expressions and her manner of never letting more feeling than she allowed to show through her carefully built mask. Her coolness while a man had a knife to her throat, while most women would be crying and begging in her situation. He even realized that he had seen relief in her eyes; relief that there was another immortal in the room. And while Dorian had spent his days with her, she seemed every bit as experienced as him and sometimes seemed as though she had her own baggage. Her own demons. This new revelation only made him appreciate her more, which he hadn't thought was possible.

But there were still more surprises left in the day. "Boy," the clearly _American_ newcomer spoke appreciatively, "They told me European women had funny ways." It seemed the boy -he looked little over the age of 20- was attempting to make a joke as he stepped further into the library. He looked at Mina again, his eyes taking her in. "You, err, missed a spot," he told her, indicating where with his own cheek.

"Excuse me," she murmured, wiping the blood away demurely before looking to the American again. "And you are?"

He smiled proudly as he announced his formal title, "Special Agent Sawyer of the American Secret Service."

Quartermain stepped forward, regaining control and leadership, "So America is aware of the situation, then?"

"If the war starts in Europe, how long's it gonna take before it crosses the Atlantic?" Dorian sneered slightly at the western American accent in the youth's voice, finding it mildly irritating. After all, it failed to scream, 'intelligence!'

The American continued in his briefing, "So I followed you. Knocked out a straggler and took his place."

The boy seemed very proud of his feat, and Dorian felt it was his duty to bring him back down to earth. "_Very_ noble," he commented dryly with a slight mocking twinge. "But this is a _private _party," he stated smugly, "and _you're _not invited."

"Actually," Mina quipped, glancing at Dorian before smiling openly at this _Sawyer _boy, "Dorian has declined. So we _are _one shy of a full deck." Dorian was amused and incredibly willing to play along with Mina's game. He had always rather liked a chase.

"On the contrary," Dorian announced, "the battle was just the spur I needed. That and," he glanced at Mina with one eyebrow raised, "the thrill of a friendship renewed." Mina rolled her eyes and scoffed at Dorian's blatantly suggestive remarks. "So you're _not_ needed," he finished.

Sawyer narrowed his eyes and looked as though he were about to say something particularly nasty to Dorian when Quartermain walked up to Sawyer and claimed his gun. _Such a primitive form of dueling_, Dorian thought, _It requires __no real skill._ _At least, not like fencing_. _Now that is an art_. "Winchester," Quartermain stated. referring to the brand of the gun.

"That's right," Sawyer confirmed, looking down at his weapon affectionately. "It's modified, American-style."

"American style shooting, too," Quartermain responded.

"Well, whatever it takes." It appeared Sawyer did not catch on to the mocking words as Quartermain had intended. "If you like it," Sawyer began, his expression mimicking that of a begging pooch, "I brought two."

That seemed to do the trick. "You're in," Quartermain said, "First meetings usually warrant introductions. The name's Alan Quartermain." They shook hands and he strolled away with a new rifle in his possession.

Nemo stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Captain Nemo."

Tom shook his hands, slightly intimidated by the man. "Pleased to meet you."

Of course Skinner tapped his shoulder from behind, prompting the American to jump back in surprise and search for the culprit. Skinner grabbed his hand and shook it, possibly stopping Sawyer's heart in the process. "Rodney Skinner, gentleman thief, at your service, my good man."

Sawyer's face paled, "You- you're-"

Skinner applied grease paint to his face and put his trench coat back on as he rolled his eyes, "Invisible, yes I'm aware."

Mina strutted forward and held her feminine hand out to shake, "Mrs. Mina Harker."

The American collected himself held her hand a moment longer than proper, "It's _very _nice to meet you."

"Charmed," Dorian said when he moved in front of Mina, effectively separating them. Irritated, he pointedly left his own hand at his side. "Dorian Gray."

Quartermain looked to him in a questioning manner, and Dorian lead the group towards the exit.

"Mr. Gray," Nemo called, "it would be helpful if we left through the way of the docks."

"Of course," Dorian responded, recalling the files on Nemo's transportation. He changed direction and began to saunter down the fire escape, the rest of the League in his wake. "So what's the next port call?" Of course, Mr. Quartermain still had to prove useful and collect Mr. Hyde.

"Paris," Quartermain told the group. "We have one last member to recruit." Thinking back over his words, Quartermain reiterated, "Capture is more the word. And it will be quite the hunt."

"You make him sound like some kind of animal, Mr. Q," Mina commented, once again the prim and delicate lady she looked like.

"Oh, speaking thus, _your_ conduct a moment ago...?" Quartermain countered, rather rudely in Dorian's opinion. How could anyone accuse this woman of being an animal, even after seeing her in such a bestial state?

"Indeed," Skinner butted in, greedy for a story. "We're all aquiver with excitement."

However forward the other two 'gentlemen' were, Dorian knew they were right. He too, was curious as to what exactly Mina's story was.

Mina took a few steps towards the dock, separating herself from the group as all eyes turned towards her. "Well," she began, "My husband was Jonathan Harker." Her voice took on a dreamy expression, as though she was not really there. But Dorian already knew she was a widow; the reasons for it was what he wondered. "Together, with a professor named Van Helsing, we fought a dangerous evil. It had a name," her eyes were hollow now, unwilling to show what Dorian assumes was hurt and hatred towards the creature that had, in her eyes, damned her, "_Dracula_. He was Transylvanian."

Skinner chose this moment to interrupt, and Dorian scowled at him, aware that if she was stopped in the middle of her tale, Mina would not be able to gather herself to continue. "European? One of those radicals newspapers love to report on?" Skinner asked insensitively. It appeared that this man was no gentlemen thief, no matter how he referred to himself.

Mina turned back to the rest of the group, her expression cool and her hands unlatching the scarf and chocker on her neck. "I don't know, Mr. Skinner," she said coldly. "Is the vampiric sucking of people's blood considered radical behavior?" she asked as she revealed the two puncture scars, her last mark of the adventure her human life had taken her on. Skinner bowed his head in shame and all of the men looked away from the wound in respect, save for Dorian who looked on in interest. He had never known a vampire before and new experiences were something he coveted. It also comforted him that someone shared his doom of walking the earth's surface until the end of time. Someone who understood.

Nemo looked at the ocean, seeing or hearing something that was a mystery to everyone else -except perhaps Mina who had enhanced senses on her side. "Our transportation is forthcoming," he said. _Finally_.

"A boat?" the American inquired incredulously.

"It travels on water if that's what you mean... And beneath it," Nemo answered as the top of his invention began to rise from the depths. An enormous silver ship came into view, and Dorian began to understand why M would want information on it. "Behold, the Nautilus. The Sword of the Ocean."

"Next stop: Paris."


End file.
